Page 1 of Wizard's Spitfire

Prologue

Six weeks earlier

Wizard

I SIGH AND LEAN BACKin my chair, checking my cell phone for a response from Bug. Bug, a fellow hacker, is part of our mother club in Baton Rouge.

Charlie Caruso

(504) 522-2639

??

I smile. Nice, strong Italian name. Not as strong as Morelli, but I like it. I send a quick reply.

Thanks, brother

??

Charlie

TODAY IS A TOTAL FUCKINGshit show. First, I get called to the principal's office while I’m dropping the girls off at school. My low-life ex didn’t pay the tuition yet again. Now, I owe the school sixty-thousand dollars by the end of the school year. Six weeks. Then I get a flat tire on my way to my first appointment of the day.

I’m meeting some guy named Wizard for a potential job. A job that could theoretically pay a chunk of said tuition. I’m fortunate the school is not making me pay late fees. The tuition was due last August. My slug of an ex pays a few hundred or a few thousand, then nothing for a few months. That’s whatthe school told me today. He hasn’t paid child support for the last five years. Why isn’t he in jail? Good question. My guess, because he’s a sleazeball lawyer with sleazier friends.

Which brings me to now. I slam the trunk of the car down and fight the urge to scream or cry. Possibly both. My spare is missing. I have a sneaking suspicion one of my daughters borrowed it and forgot to tell me. Which really means my piece of shit ex took it for the girls' car and didn’t bother to tell me.

UGGGGGGGGGGGG!

“Deep breaths,” I mutter to myself.

The rumble of a motorcycle draws my attention. Out of instinct, I shift my weight so I can reach my piece if I need it. I watch as a lone biker pulls behind my car. I’d maneuvered into an empty parking lot when the tire went flat.

My breath catches when he takes off his helmet. And not because I’m scared. He’s a fucking adonis. I’d put him at six-foot-two, two-twenty. His black t-shirt clings to a muscular chest and shows off well-formed biceps. Well-worn denim clings to his lean hips. My lips curve slightly when I see the shit kickers. He takes off the helmet and I get a good look at him. His thick black hair is shaved on the sides, revealing tatts. More ink peeks out from under the collar of his shirt and down both arms.

I wonder if he has full sleeves. His hazel eyes look greener against his olive complexion. He smiles, showing even white teeth and dimples. I feel my stomach dip.

Oh no, Miss Thang, for-get it! You are NOT going to flirt with him.Fuck, I thought, Miss Thang died along with my libido.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Only if you have a spare tire on that sled?”

His smile widens. “I’m afraid not. Can I wait with you for a tow?”

I glance at my watch. “I’m going to be late for an appointment. If I call a tow truck, it’ll be at least an hour.”

“Let me call our garage. They’ll send out a tow truck and take the car to the garage. We’ll get your tire repaired and get you a spare.”

I eye him suspiciously. “Why are you helping?

“My ma raised me right. I’d never have Sunday gravy again if I left someone stranded on the side of the road.”

“How much is it going to cost?”

“I’ll have them give you the friends and family discount.”

“You don’t know me.”

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